Invoices
by sophiesophiesophiee
Summary: Elsie Hughes has to resort to drastic measures in order to get Charles Carson's attention. One shot.


**A/N: Just another one-shot from me. Inspired by callmekassie, Batwings79 and downtondownstairs over on Tumblr. I blame them for this. **

**Disclaimer: I still own nothing, unfortunately. If I did, this would have happened right at the beginning to series one. Oh who am I kidding...this would happen ALL THE TIME.**

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Charles looked up to switch on his desk lamp; it had become very dark all of a sudden and his eyes were beginning to hurt from concentrating too hard on the invoice in front of him. It had been a long day, and he had been rushing around to make sure the house would be ready early. Himself and Elsie Hughes, the housekeeper, had decided that the staff should all be given the night off to go to the fair and the family had gone to London for a dinner party, taking Anna, Bates, O'Brien and Thomas with them. The decision to take Thomas had been a welcome one on Charles' behalf. He disliked the chap immensely and was grateful to Lord Grantham that he was suggested to go along to help carry the cases.

Charles had not intended on spending such a long time poring over numbers. He had originally meant to take just a brief look and spend the evening reading or talking with Elsie, but to his disdain, there had been a number of errors on one invoice in particular that needed rectifying immediately. He sighed; he had been looking forward to dropping the butler façade for a while. It had been too long since the two of them had spent any sort of time together just talking, without having to worry about work or being overheard by any of the other staff members. The house was empty, and he was sitting alone in his pantry, worrying about a wine invoice.

Something was desperately wrong.

He heard soft footsteps in the corridor and wondered if one of the maids had returned early. There was no jingling of keys to accompany the movement, so his immediate hope that it was Elsie was soon quashed. He returned his gaze to the sheet of paper, listening as the footsteps seemed to get lighter. Whoever it was obviously did not want to speak to him, and, if he was honest, were it anyone but Elsie walking past, he did not particularly want to converse with them either.

A shadow fell from the doorway and he looked up, his breath catching in his throat. He felt a sudden haze of warmth fill the room and lifted his hand to loosen his collar, hoping that it would help the sudden rush of colour fade from his cheeks.

Elsie Hughes was standing before him, hair loose and wearing nothing but her slip. The temperature had significantly increased. He opened his mouth in an attempt to say something to her, but all that came out of his mouth was a deep, rumbling moan. His desk lamp caused certain parts of her slip to become see through and, despite his best efforts, he was rendered completely incapable of meeting her gaze.

"I think it's time you put those invoices away." She purred, taking a step towards him. He had never seen this side of her before and, as a result, remained unable to respond.

He slowly managed to lift his line of vision from her bosom to her face, finally taking in the passionate expression that adorned her eyes. Meeting her gaze was the final nail in the coffin of his gentlemanly nature. He stood up, all thoughts of invoices forgotten, and placed his hand on her upper arm. She moved swiftly, pressing him back against his own desk and fumbling a little with the buttons of his shirt. He was suddenly very thankful that he had already divested himself of his jacket; one less garment to worry about.

And then he paused.

"Is this a good idea?" He rumbled against the soft, porcelain skin of her neck, inhaling the scent that was distinctly Elsie.

"I've never had a better idea in all my life." Came the response. She allowed her fingertips to bury themselves in his hair, holding his head in the position it was in a relishing in the mixture of soft kisses and gentle nips that were being placed on her neck. He would, no doubt, leave a mark; she would be wearing a high collar tomorrow.

Charles followed Elsie's lead and shrugged his open shirt from his shoulders, breaking contact with her only to remove his vest. Her hands quickly became entangled in the light peppering of hair on his chest and he paused his kisses for a moment to merely appreciate how soft her hands were and how good they felt on his skin.

He looked up into her eyes once more and finally took the plunge, pressing his lips firmly against hers. She nestled herself between his legs, kissing him with a hunger that neither of them knew they possessed. Charles' lips soon made their way back to Elsie's neck, feeling, rather than hearing, the soft whimpers escape from her throat.

His belt was undone and his trousers had fallen to his ankles; he pressed his lips to her shoulder as he stepped out of his trousers, kicking his shoes off absent-mindedly with them. He really did wear too many clothes.

Her skin was soft and sweet beneath his lips and he wondered why it had taken so long for him to do this. It wasn't as though he hadn't thought about it, quite the opposite in fact. Many evenings after he had bid her goodnight, he returned to his room, his head filled with Elsie. What she was doing, what she was thinking, whether or not they would retire together… But no amount of imagining could have prepared him for this moment. He slowly slid his hand under her slip, taking his time to feel the smooth expanse of warm flesh beneath his fingers. He lifted the flimsy material and gently pulled it over her head, placing his hands on her hips and holding her at arm's length, appraising her for a moment. He had never seen anything more beautiful.

He continued to explore her body, kissing and stroking her skin and spurred on by the hisses and whimpers that escaped her mouth. All coherence was lost; desire had taken over. He divested himself of his undershorts and positioned himself at her entrance, pressing his lips to hers and entering her as gently as he could. She moaned deeply into his mouth and placed her hands on his shoulders to steady herself.

Together they moved, creating a rhythm that felt familiar, as if it had been rehearsed a hundred times before. They moved in perfect synchronisation, the kisses and touches between them never relenting. A low, guttural moan was torn from Elsie's throat and she fell heavily against Charles, whimpering and breathing heavily. He was not far behind her.

His grip on Elsie's frame tightened and he pulled her firmly against him, pressing kisses to her hair, her forehead and finally to her lips, stroking her cheek and meeting her gaze.

"Elsie…" He murmured, running his thumb gently over her lower lip. "Did we just…?" His grin was obvious from his voice. She released a gently laugh, kissing his thumb as it made its way over her lips again.

"I believe so. Though I hope in future I won't have to resort to such drastic measures just to get your attention..."


End file.
